My dearest sister,
Thank you for becoming a follower, actually I should be thanking myself for making you a gmail account thus enabling you access to the comments on this blog. You have been quite useless on the process and therefore I will not abide to your rules regarding my blog.
This is, after all, my blog, and even if you just pointed out the commas should be in a different place, I will keep them where they are, since this is, after all, my blog.
This blog is not the place where I consistently prove the world how absurd you can be at times.
This is not the place where your achievements are recognised (see Parents, a comparative study to understand the meaning of achievement in this context).
This is not the place that's going to turn you into an online phenomenon.
This is my blog, and I fill it with my own ramblings. The fact that you are an important part of them only proves one thing: You are a trustworthy source of humour, and not because you chose to be so, but because you provide me with anecdotes unconciously.
I thank you for being one of my inspirations, my second follower and my beta reader, but please, let me take the credit for my writings.
Love,
your sister.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Requiem for a fish
And I was afraid I would have nothing to write and my blog would die little by little. I was sooo wrong.
It is sad, I can say almost tragic, but my fish died this afternoon. She was old, really old for a fish, at least 7 years old, and she was beautiful, shiny white with orange freckles, big eyes and round mouth, huge we thought, until we saw the size of the males of her species.
She even had a name. I still remember when we thought she was a he, till she laid eggs on our fish tank. She didn't move away from her soon to be kids while they matured. She bit any other fish that approached them, even the father... it was sad to see none of the eggs survive, but it has been even more sad to see her floating aimlessly on the fish tank, no shiny skin, her eyes opaque...
Sure she wasn't a dog or a cat (I would have been alergic to her in the second case), sure she didn't greet us happily everytime we got home, but alas she was our fish, and, believe it or not, we had grown very fond of her (and I should stop watching Pride and Prejudice if I ever want to speak current English and not XIXth century English).
This is my humble homage to our big fish, goodbye Jacinta
It is sad, I can say almost tragic, but my fish died this afternoon. She was old, really old for a fish, at least 7 years old, and she was beautiful, shiny white with orange freckles, big eyes and round mouth, huge we thought, until we saw the size of the males of her species.
She even had a name. I still remember when we thought she was a he, till she laid eggs on our fish tank. She didn't move away from her soon to be kids while they matured. She bit any other fish that approached them, even the father... it was sad to see none of the eggs survive, but it has been even more sad to see her floating aimlessly on the fish tank, no shiny skin, her eyes opaque...
Sure she wasn't a dog or a cat (I would have been alergic to her in the second case), sure she didn't greet us happily everytime we got home, but alas she was our fish, and, believe it or not, we had grown very fond of her (and I should stop watching Pride and Prejudice if I ever want to speak current English and not XIXth century English).
This is my humble homage to our big fish, goodbye Jacinta
Esoyarse en un majano
Before anyone wonders, the title of this post has little to do with its content, it's just a very fun way of saying: Fall on a pile of rocks (Remember what my sister did two Sundays ago? That's literally it).
But there is some metaphoric relation between the actual expression and my current situation. I'm afraid I may just fall on a pile of rocks very soon. I'm climbing it right now, and have started to find the climb exhausting, stressful and tense. If anyone wonders what the f*** I'm talking about I'll be clear about it: I'm looking for a job. I graduate in less than four months and I can't bear the idea of not having a plan after that, so looking for a job has become part of my daily routine. Applications, letters, tests, interviews, cases...
I think I'm doing fine, some of those interviews go well, others not so well, but still I have to learn how to say what the interviewer wants to hear, and that I can only achieve with practice. Some days I feel I'm doing more than well, I feel I'm doing excellent, so I wander what will happen when I get to the top of my pile of rocks... will I fall? will I stay there for a while? Is there a higher pile behind it?
Why don't we all have a crystal ball where we can have look at our future depending on our different decissions? Life would be a lot easier... Maybe a lot more boring too.
I like myself better when I write humorous posts but hey! Such is Life.
But there is some metaphoric relation between the actual expression and my current situation. I'm afraid I may just fall on a pile of rocks very soon. I'm climbing it right now, and have started to find the climb exhausting, stressful and tense. If anyone wonders what the f*** I'm talking about I'll be clear about it: I'm looking for a job. I graduate in less than four months and I can't bear the idea of not having a plan after that, so looking for a job has become part of my daily routine. Applications, letters, tests, interviews, cases...
I think I'm doing fine, some of those interviews go well, others not so well, but still I have to learn how to say what the interviewer wants to hear, and that I can only achieve with practice. Some days I feel I'm doing more than well, I feel I'm doing excellent, so I wander what will happen when I get to the top of my pile of rocks... will I fall? will I stay there for a while? Is there a higher pile behind it?
Why don't we all have a crystal ball where we can have look at our future depending on our different decissions? Life would be a lot easier... Maybe a lot more boring too.
I like myself better when I write humorous posts but hey! Such is Life.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Why people should never laugh at other people
Call this revenge if you want, but I can't live knowing the world ignores what happened last Sunday.
I have been really busy these past few days with Marielle's visit (who left this morning :( ) and I'll be gone all weekend, so I was starting to fear there would be no new posts on this blog for a long long time. Fortunately, my sister made me a priceless gift last Sunday, a gift that will prove that there's either something wrong with the Clemente siblings or just that we are all humans after all (and definitely not dancers -what a song!).
A couple of weeks ago I humbled myself by posting one of my very intelligent ideas (see The Parafilm Experiment for more details) today, sorry Bro, I'm going to tell you my sister's brilliant idea on Sunday.
As I said before, Marielle has been visiting us for a couple of days, on Sunday we decided to take her to Chinchon, a small town near Madrid. After lunch we took a walk, and decided to try some of the pastries we had bought. With a piece of pastry in her hand, my very curious (and I must add 26 yeared old) sister spots a small group of rocks, and decides it would be a good idea to climb on one of them (by climb I mean step on it, as the rock had the size of... let's say... my head). It is a shame that no one saw the actual fall, but it seems the rock moved and she fell in the middle of the massive group of rocks. She stood up as fast as she could, but the damage was done: A very scratched arm, a less scratched knee, a bruised leg and a pair of torn tights.
I really wish someone had taped it. People carry the mobile phones with them all the time and make videos of the most stupid stuff. This was not stupid stuff. This was hilarious.
Sorry again, bro, I had to tell the world. You laughed at me a few weeks ago, and now it's my turn. Revenge is best served cold... I only fear the consequences of my actions now...
I have been really busy these past few days with Marielle's visit (who left this morning :( ) and I'll be gone all weekend, so I was starting to fear there would be no new posts on this blog for a long long time. Fortunately, my sister made me a priceless gift last Sunday, a gift that will prove that there's either something wrong with the Clemente siblings or just that we are all humans after all (and definitely not dancers -what a song!).
A couple of weeks ago I humbled myself by posting one of my very intelligent ideas (see The Parafilm Experiment for more details) today, sorry Bro, I'm going to tell you my sister's brilliant idea on Sunday.
As I said before, Marielle has been visiting us for a couple of days, on Sunday we decided to take her to Chinchon, a small town near Madrid. After lunch we took a walk, and decided to try some of the pastries we had bought. With a piece of pastry in her hand, my very curious (and I must add 26 yeared old) sister spots a small group of rocks, and decides it would be a good idea to climb on one of them (by climb I mean step on it, as the rock had the size of... let's say... my head). It is a shame that no one saw the actual fall, but it seems the rock moved and she fell in the middle of the massive group of rocks. She stood up as fast as she could, but the damage was done: A very scratched arm, a less scratched knee, a bruised leg and a pair of torn tights.
I really wish someone had taped it. People carry the mobile phones with them all the time and make videos of the most stupid stuff. This was not stupid stuff. This was hilarious.
Sorry again, bro, I had to tell the world. You laughed at me a few weeks ago, and now it's my turn. Revenge is best served cold... I only fear the consequences of my actions now...
Monday, March 2, 2009
Parents, a comparative study.
I'm back, Brussels was great. I went there with my mother to visit an old family friend, not that she's old, of course, but she's known me since I was born, so she is indeed an old family friend, and the mother of my oldest friend (who has also known me since I was born).
Unimportant as those facts are, they may help you understand the following entry: Parents, a comparative study.
Spanish parents are different. If anyone has been reading my blog, either on Blogger or Facebook, you may have seen me claim Spain is different. So true. Parents are no exception. Spanish parents are particularly protective of their children. I guess it has a lot to do with the fact that spanish children stay home longer than many other young people all over the world, and the more I see of the world the more I believe my own theory. Spanish parents worry over three basic needs and will always ask three questions when their kids phone them from wherever they are:
1.- Where are you?
2.- Are you warm enough?
3.- What have you eaten?
Cold and food are the greatest worries of spanish parents, as long as their kids are warm and well fed they are happy. I think it has to do with the worries of the previous generation. Our grandparents lived a civil war and lacked the basics for a long while. They worried over those basics and taught their children (today's parents) to worry over the same things.
Mothers are even more special. In the last few days I've been making a deeper study on my understanding of Spanish moms. And I have made some very interesting findings: When Spanish moms gather they always repeat 3 behavioral patterns:
1.- Moms will always share cooking recipies. I strongly believe that's one of the reasons why Spanish food is so rich and delicious.
2.- Moms will always talk about their kids achievements, by achievements I mean "I remember when my daughter burned a curtain with a hair drier" or "My daughter doesn't even know how to turn on the washing machine".
And
3.- If moms go to a bar or a restaurant they will always fight over who pays the bill. Paying is a victory (I never understood why).
These facts, added to the first three questions pretty much define what spanish parents are like. I do wonder if these facts are closely related to the fact that they are Spanish and Parents or if it has to do exclusively with the genes that activate with parenthood (and here I beg scientists to forgive me, but I do have the feeling some of our genes activate only after having children, if that's possible).
Trying to answer my own questions I found a video on youtube that was quite enlighting. I add the link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ak9xHCdrIdE
After watching it three times in a row I showed said video to my mom. I couldn't stop laughing, the video is a marterpiece, a work of art, plain hilarious. But my mom had another approach, no wonder, she is, after all, a mom. She did not laugh, all she pointed out was that she would have taken the kid to the hospital at once, whatever anesthesia he was given at the dentist it was seriously affecting his brain. She even made me feel bad for not worrying about David's condition. I am a very selfish being.
Then today something else happened. My sister's been given the chance to do a three-month research abroad. Her options are Miami, Montreal and the Netherlands. When I heard her options I instantly voted for Miami. My mom? She just asked: Don't you have any other option much closer? I looked at her outraged: Closer? If anything, she should go somewhere even further.
Such is life, such are Spanish parents.
Unimportant as those facts are, they may help you understand the following entry: Parents, a comparative study.
Spanish parents are different. If anyone has been reading my blog, either on Blogger or Facebook, you may have seen me claim Spain is different. So true. Parents are no exception. Spanish parents are particularly protective of their children. I guess it has a lot to do with the fact that spanish children stay home longer than many other young people all over the world, and the more I see of the world the more I believe my own theory. Spanish parents worry over three basic needs and will always ask three questions when their kids phone them from wherever they are:
1.- Where are you?
2.- Are you warm enough?
3.- What have you eaten?
Cold and food are the greatest worries of spanish parents, as long as their kids are warm and well fed they are happy. I think it has to do with the worries of the previous generation. Our grandparents lived a civil war and lacked the basics for a long while. They worried over those basics and taught their children (today's parents) to worry over the same things.
Mothers are even more special. In the last few days I've been making a deeper study on my understanding of Spanish moms. And I have made some very interesting findings: When Spanish moms gather they always repeat 3 behavioral patterns:
1.- Moms will always share cooking recipies. I strongly believe that's one of the reasons why Spanish food is so rich and delicious.
2.- Moms will always talk about their kids achievements, by achievements I mean "I remember when my daughter burned a curtain with a hair drier" or "My daughter doesn't even know how to turn on the washing machine".
And
3.- If moms go to a bar or a restaurant they will always fight over who pays the bill. Paying is a victory (I never understood why).
These facts, added to the first three questions pretty much define what spanish parents are like. I do wonder if these facts are closely related to the fact that they are Spanish and Parents or if it has to do exclusively with the genes that activate with parenthood (and here I beg scientists to forgive me, but I do have the feeling some of our genes activate only after having children, if that's possible).
Trying to answer my own questions I found a video on youtube that was quite enlighting. I add the link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ak9xHCdrIdE
After watching it three times in a row I showed said video to my mom. I couldn't stop laughing, the video is a marterpiece, a work of art, plain hilarious. But my mom had another approach, no wonder, she is, after all, a mom. She did not laugh, all she pointed out was that she would have taken the kid to the hospital at once, whatever anesthesia he was given at the dentist it was seriously affecting his brain. She even made me feel bad for not worrying about David's condition. I am a very selfish being.
Then today something else happened. My sister's been given the chance to do a three-month research abroad. Her options are Miami, Montreal and the Netherlands. When I heard her options I instantly voted for Miami. My mom? She just asked: Don't you have any other option much closer? I looked at her outraged: Closer? If anything, she should go somewhere even further.
Such is life, such are Spanish parents.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
The Parafilm Experiment
Yesterday afternoon I went with my sister to the lab where she's carrying out the research for her PhD. On a saturday afternoon the building is totally empty, and walking about there alone is quite scary. So I gathered all my sisterly-love and decided to go with her despite all I wanted was to stay home and watch TV.
I used to understand a little bit of science when I was at school. I once wanted to become a doctor... but then I decided I didn't have the patience. Scientists have a skill I don't, I guess I could have learnt it, but now it's too late for me. Yesterday I proved myself right in that belief.
Bored as I was while my sister prepared her cells to freeze them, I walked about looking for stuff that could be fun. Liquid nitrogen (-196ºC) was the first dicovery, but I needed an expert to handle it, so I let my sister freeze gloves in nitrogen while I watched mesmerised how the liquid disappeared as it hit the ground, or a table. So. Much. Fun. But dangerous. If liquid nitrogen get into your eyes, you should start saying goodbye to the amazing gift of sight. No kidding.
So I finally found something fun-but-not-dangerous that I could enterntain myself with while my sister worked: Parafilm. Quoting the company that created it: "Parafilm® M is a versatile, moisture-resistant, thermoplastic flexible plastic for a wide variety of clinical and industrial applications, Parafilm M® film has been used with confidence for years in scientific research and medical settings".
To make things easier, Parafilm is a plastic tape that you can stretch to protect things such as bottles. If used correctly, and I want to emphasize that, correctly, it can protect anything from getting wet, but I lacked the skill to use it correctly.
And then... then's when I had "the brilliant idea": Why not cover my cell phone in parafilm and put it in a sink full of water? Excellent idea. My sister helped my to cover it from left to right, but then I was left alone to finish the job and cover it from top to bottom. That was the begining of the end. Believing I had done it right, I dipped my telephone into the water, and left it there while laughing a little bit histerically (I did not trust myself, but my sister insisted...). A minute later I take the phone out of the water and checked the results of my experiment... THERE WAS WATER INSIDE THE SUPPOSEDLY WATER RESISTANT PLASTIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I panicked and tried to get the phone out of its cover, but one of the properties of parafilm is that it is very difficult to break it once it's stretched. So I start screaming, finally manage to break the plastic and contemplate my very wet cell phone. There was water inside the battery, and between the buttons.
I have never felt more intelligent in my life. I dried the sad little device as quickly as I could. It is still working. Had I broken my cell I would have never been able to forgive myself, it would have felt like I had murdered it by drowning it into the water.
My legal mind first thought of suing the company, but they are intelligent (unlike me) and they limit the liability of its product to its "correct use", dipping cell phone into water is not considered one of those correct uses.
Still, I have another experiment in mind to carry out next time I go with my sister to the lab: Cover the cell phone in parafilm with so many layers that if you bang it against the floor it won't break. Bets are accepted, will my cell die this time?
Have a nice week,and wish me luck, the results of my exams are coming out on thursday. Next update will be in march, next weekend I'll be in Brussels!!!
*** Parafilm: http://www.parafilm.com/FloraTapeHome.aspx?Menu=2
I used to understand a little bit of science when I was at school. I once wanted to become a doctor... but then I decided I didn't have the patience. Scientists have a skill I don't, I guess I could have learnt it, but now it's too late for me. Yesterday I proved myself right in that belief.
Bored as I was while my sister prepared her cells to freeze them, I walked about looking for stuff that could be fun. Liquid nitrogen (-196ºC) was the first dicovery, but I needed an expert to handle it, so I let my sister freeze gloves in nitrogen while I watched mesmerised how the liquid disappeared as it hit the ground, or a table. So. Much. Fun. But dangerous. If liquid nitrogen get into your eyes, you should start saying goodbye to the amazing gift of sight. No kidding.
So I finally found something fun-but-not-dangerous that I could enterntain myself with while my sister worked: Parafilm. Quoting the company that created it: "Parafilm® M is a versatile, moisture-resistant, thermoplastic flexible plastic for a wide variety of clinical and industrial applications, Parafilm M® film has been used with confidence for years in scientific research and medical settings".
To make things easier, Parafilm is a plastic tape that you can stretch to protect things such as bottles. If used correctly, and I want to emphasize that, correctly, it can protect anything from getting wet, but I lacked the skill to use it correctly.
And then... then's when I had "the brilliant idea": Why not cover my cell phone in parafilm and put it in a sink full of water? Excellent idea. My sister helped my to cover it from left to right, but then I was left alone to finish the job and cover it from top to bottom. That was the begining of the end. Believing I had done it right, I dipped my telephone into the water, and left it there while laughing a little bit histerically (I did not trust myself, but my sister insisted...). A minute later I take the phone out of the water and checked the results of my experiment... THERE WAS WATER INSIDE THE SUPPOSEDLY WATER RESISTANT PLASTIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I panicked and tried to get the phone out of its cover, but one of the properties of parafilm is that it is very difficult to break it once it's stretched. So I start screaming, finally manage to break the plastic and contemplate my very wet cell phone. There was water inside the battery, and between the buttons.
I have never felt more intelligent in my life. I dried the sad little device as quickly as I could. It is still working. Had I broken my cell I would have never been able to forgive myself, it would have felt like I had murdered it by drowning it into the water.
My legal mind first thought of suing the company, but they are intelligent (unlike me) and they limit the liability of its product to its "correct use", dipping cell phone into water is not considered one of those correct uses.
Still, I have another experiment in mind to carry out next time I go with my sister to the lab: Cover the cell phone in parafilm with so many layers that if you bang it against the floor it won't break. Bets are accepted, will my cell die this time?
Have a nice week,and wish me luck, the results of my exams are coming out on thursday. Next update will be in march, next weekend I'll be in Brussels!!!
*** Parafilm: http://www.parafilm.com/Fl
Friday, February 20, 2009
Not breathing a word (Feb 14th 2009)
After five weeks of writing Notes I've ran out of ideas. I finally have nothing to say, at least this week. I don't think my notes were very inspired, but at least I could fill a couple of lines that made sense!
Who knows, maybe next week, maybe not, I may be going on hiatus for a while, until again I have some paranoia worth telling.
Till then, Happy birthday Mr. Darwin:
PHOEBE: Go ahead and scoff. You know, there're a lot of things that I don't believe in, but that doesn't mean they're not true.
JOEY: Such as?
PHOEBE: Like crop circles, or the Bermuda triangle, or evolution?
ROSS: Whoa, whoa, whoa. What, you don't, uh, you don't believe in evolution?
PHOEBE: I don't know, it's just, you know...monkeys, Darwin, you know, it's a, it's a nice story, I just think it's a little too easy.
ROSS: Too easy? The process of every living thing on this planet evolving over millions of years from single-celled organisms, too easy?
PHOEBE: Yeah, I just don't buy it.
ROSS: Uh, excuse me. Evolution is not for you to buy, Phoebe. Evolution is scientific fact like the air we breathe, like gravity.
PHOEBE: Ok, don't get me started on gravity.
Who knows, maybe next week, maybe not, I may be going on hiatus for a while, until again I have some paranoia worth telling.
Till then, Happy birthday Mr. Darwin:
PHOEBE: Go ahead and scoff. You know, there're a lot of things that I don't believe in, but that doesn't mean they're not true.
JOEY: Such as?
PHOEBE: Like crop circles, or the Bermuda triangle, or evolution?
ROSS: Whoa, whoa, whoa. What, you don't, uh, you don't believe in evolution?
PHOEBE: I don't know, it's just, you know...monkeys, Darwin, you know, it's a, it's a nice story, I just think it's a little too easy.
ROSS: Too easy? The process of every living thing on this planet evolving over millions of years from single-celled organisms, too easy?
PHOEBE: Yeah, I just don't buy it.
ROSS: Uh, excuse me. Evolution is not for you to buy, Phoebe. Evolution is scientific fact like the air we breathe, like gravity.
PHOEBE: Ok, don't get me started on gravity.
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